


Drabble Advent Calendar 2017

by ready_to_kick_some_ass



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Babyproofing, Baking, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas market, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fireworks, Flashbacks, Fluff, Holding Hands, Husbands, Idiots in Love, Jealous John, Jealousy, Kidlock, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, Mulled wine, Panic Attacks, Sharing Body Heat, Snowball Fight, a lot of love, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready_to_kick_some_ass/pseuds/ready_to_kick_some_ass
Summary: Sherlock Drabbles from the 1st to the 24th of December! (Basing on Tumblr Prompts)





	1. December 1: Mistletoe (400 words)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [Trận Chiến Bóng Tuyết](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243866) by [Its_all_about_your_OTPs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_all_about_your_OTPs/pseuds/Its_all_about_your_OTPs)



Prompt: “One of them kisses another man under the mistletoe at the Yard’s holiday party and the other gets jealous.”

* * *

 

In the beginning, Sherlock was not sure.  
But now he knows.  
David, the - admittedly attractive - new policeman at the Yard, is interested in John ...  
He sneaks around John, with a half-full glass of champagne in his hand, which he always seems to forget completely when John returns his attention.  
What clearly happens too often ...  
Glances seem to be getting longer. Stay attached to eyes and lips. Sherlock's disbelief and horror grow while he’s watching the spectacle.  
He is helpless. Unable, to do anything against this.  
  
And what would I do about anyway … He does not know, what I am feeling for him ...  
  
When he suddenly sees John and David stopping under a mistletoe, something in his chest cramps painfully.  
  
_Well ... surely, they would not - no, that's silly. Not-gay-John Watson would never_  
  
But then David actually points to the mistletoe on the doorframe and looks at John with raised eyebrows.  
And instead of shaking his head or laughing, John nods, gives a short glance in Sherlock's direction for some reason, and gives David a quick kiss. On the mouth.  
For a brief moment, the time around Sherlock seems to stand still.  
Then he realizes that everyone is staring at him. He dropped his glass. He gets unbearably warm. He mumbles an apology and hurries to the exit. When he's outside, he takes a deep breath.  
  
_Oh God …_  
  
"Hey, are you alright?"  
John. He stands in front of Sherlock and frowns.  
"Yes. Just ... too much wine."  
The next moment, David steps out of the door and asks cheerfully, "Everything alright, Holmes?"  
Rage rises in Sherlock. "YES!"  
Obviously his answer is loud enough. David immediately hurries back inside.  
John clears his throat nervously.  
"You did not like me kissing him, did you?"  
Sherlock does not answer. He feels exposed.  
John scratches his neck. "To be honest ... I did that because I thought - hoped - you'd become, uhm, a bit jealous."  
"What?" Sherlock asks in astonishment.  
John swallows. "Well ... sometimes I have a certain feeling ... but then I think I’m wrong and ..."  
"You're not wrong," Sherlock says quickly. _Can it be …_  
"Oh." John smiles. "Well ... uhm, have you ever kissed under a mistletoe?"  
"No. But it would be a pleasure for me to experience this with you for the first time.”  
"Alright then, come on …"


	2. December 2: Babyproofing (200 words)

Prompt by anon: Babyproofing

* * *

 

 “The flat is not baby proof,” Mrs. Hudson once says critically.  
  
“Really?” Sherlock asks in surprise.  
  
“Yes. Rosie might bump against sharp edges or grab into a socket.”  
  
“Oh.”  
Sherlock looks around. More attentively than usual. He frowns. Mrs. Hudson is right. He should make the apartment safe for Rosie.

_Maybe … maybe he will come back then?_

*  
  
There are enough books about babyproofing.  
  
He reads them carefully and then begins to work.  
Edges and corners must be secured. Exactly like sockets and cables. No dangerous cleaning agents or other chemical substances may stand around. So he moves his lab from the kitchen to his own room.  
  
He needs several days.  
  
*  
  
Once John asks him to look after Rosie. For a day.  
  
“Please make sure she does not hit her head somewhere,” John says and presses Rosie into Sherlock’s arms with a tired sigh.  
  
“Do not worry. I … I made the flat babyproof. ”  
_Please come back. Move back in with Rosie. Please, John._  
  
“Good. That’s good,” John mumbles absently, opening the door. “I will pick her up in the evening.”  
Then he is gone.  
  
Rosie grabs Sherlock’s nose and laughs.  
Sherlock laughs back. Inwardly, he feels numb.


	3. December 3: Babyproofing Part Two (400 words)

Because me and my feelings really need a sequel ...

* * *

 

  
The evening is calm.  
Sherlock sits on the couch with a sleeping Rosie in his lap while the rain is drumming against the windows quietly. A hypnotic rhythm that makes him sleepier with every minute.  
  
Rosie did not hurt herself today. She did not bump against anything or grabbed into a socket or get poisoned by a cleaning agent.  
  
_John will be satisfied._  
  
The thought makes him happy and he smiles absently. He really is tired. He closes his eyes for a moment.  
  
When he opens them again, John is standing in front of him and he flinches a little in surprise. Rosie whimpers softly in her sleep.  
  
“Sorry,” John says in a subdued voice. “I did not want to wake you up.”  
  
“I did not sleep,” Sherlock says hastily.  
_I looked after her, John. I really did._  
  
“Mmh.” John’s gaze wanders through the room. And falls on the huge pile of books on the table.  
He goes there and takes the top book in his hand. He reads the title and frowns.  
“That is … you were serious. You really made the flat baby proof, didn’t you?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
John looks around. His eyes fall secured sockets and rounded edges.  
“Wow …,” he shakes his head amazement when he sees that even Sherlock’s lab has disappeared from the kitchen. “You made such an effort for it?”  
  
"Yes,” Sherlock repeats softly.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I … I wanted you to know that Rosie is not in danger here. That she is safe with me. That you can …” Sherlock falls silent. He can’t continue. It would be like an exposure.  
  
John sighs. “To be honest … I haven’t even managed to make my own household baby proof yet.” He shakes his head. “Now I feel … irresponsible.”  
  
“Well, you could come here. With her,” Sherlock says quickly. The words suddenly come out of his mouth and in the next moment he wishes he wouldn’t have said them. “Forget it …”  
  
John looks at him thoughtfully.  
“Here. Yes. That’s … I thought about it, you know?”  
He swallows. “I … I sometimes thought you … you might not want me here anymore …”  
  
“But I do,” Sherlock says hastily. “You _are_ welcome here. You and Rosie. Always.”  
  
John smiles. Even in the dim light, Sherlock can see that his eyes are wet.  
  
“Thanks, Sherlock. Thank you.”  
  
Three days later, they unpack John’s suitcase together.


	4. December 4: The Mystery Of The Stolen Mince Pies (200 words)

Prompt: “I need kidlock and the mystery of the disappearance of all the mince pies.”

* * *

 

(Kidlock. I guess Mycroft is like 14 and Sherlock 8)

Mycroft stares at the plate on the kitchen table, frowning. There are _five_ mince pies.  
_Five._  
  
The last time he checked, there were at least _10_.  
  
He shakes his head. Who might be the thief?  
  
He already has a suspicion. But he still lacks evidence …  
  
He gets it, however, when he sees the crumbs on the ground. They form a trail that leads him out of the kitchen to his little brother’s room. Of course …  
  
As he gently pushes the door open, he sees Sherlock sitting on the floor with his back to him.  
  
Mycroft clears his throat. Sherlock flinches.  
  
“I have a crime to report,” Mycroft says dramatically. “A crime for which the culprit will be terribly punished. We’re searching for a mince pie thief!”  
  
Sherlock looks up at him, nervously. There are a lot of crumbs around his mouth.  
He has a half mince pie in his hand. He shows it to Mycroft. “I took this from the thief, Myc!”  
  
Mycroft can’t stay serious anymore. He smiles. “And where is the thief now, Inspector Holmes?”  
  
“Over the hills and far away, I’m afraid,” Sherlock says, grinning.  
  
Mycroft sighs. “Come on, we need to wash your face before Mummy sees you like this …”


	5. December 5: The Box (100 words)

Prompt: “Sherlock gives John a present and it’s his box of drug paraphernalia because he’ll never use again.”

* * *

 

One last present is left. It’s for John.

He unpacks it carefully and when all layers of paper have disappeared, he holds a nondescript box in his hands.  
He knows exactly what’s in this box. Sherlock’s drug paraphernalia.

He looks at Sherlock, who swallows.

“It’s for you, because I’ll never need it again.  
It was my escape from reality. Many times.  
But now, you are my reality, John. And I don’t have to escape _this_ reality.  
I want to stay in it forever.”

"Sherlock,“ John says breathlessly. "Thank you.”

A few days later, they burn the box together.


	6. December 6: Chocolate (200 words)

Prompt: “John and Sherlock make a christmas cake or pudding together and throw flour etc (maybe lick chocolate from fingers).”

* * *

 

John sighed. He looked at the kitchen and found what he had already expected: an absolute mess.  
Flour covered the surfaces like fine snow. Pieces of dough stuck to the walls. And everywhere were small splashes of dark chocolate.  
Their kitchen looked like a battlefield.  
  
But the cake for the party was in the oven. Finally.  
  
John looked at Sherlock, who seemed to be exhausted but happy. He laughed as he noticed the chocolate stains around Sherlock’s mouth. “You have chocolate all over your face. Apparently Someone could not stop nibbling!”  
  
“Well, _you_ have chocolate on your fingers!” Sherlock replied playfully offended.  
  
John laughed and raised his hands so he would not touch anything. He went to the sink.  
  
“Wait!” Sherlock called.  
He gently took John’s wrist. Then he slowly raised John’s hand to his mouth.  
John held his breath as Sherlock put one of his chocolate-covered fingers in his mouth and sucked on it gently. They locked eyes and John felt his face getting very warm.  
  
“Delicious,” Sherlock said finally, releasing John and licking his lips.  
  
John took a deep breath. _Jesus …_ “How long do we have until the cake is finished?”  
  
“Mmh, an hour.”  
  
“Bedroom?”  
  
“Bedroom.”


	7. December 7: Dream (100 words)

Prompt: “Christmas. Early morning. Sherlock watches John sleep after their first night together.”

* * *

 

It is early in the morning.  
The horizon slowly changes from deep blue to warm purple.  
John is sleeping.  
John is sleeping and Sherlock is watching him.  
He sits upright in bed, watching John’s peaceful face.

He wonders if he just has one of his old dreams …  
  
Their first night together?  
A really nice dream.  
Emotions threaten to overwhelm him.  
So much happiness. So much warmth and safety. So much … love.  
  
A wonderful dream.  
  
But then John starts to wake up. He slowly opens his eyes, blinks and smiles when he sees Sherlock.  
“Morning, love,” John mumbles and Sherlock knows  
  
it is not a dream.


	8. December 8: Rent (200 words)

Prompt: "Mrs. Hudson tells them she won't accept rent anymore because she doesn't need it and thinks of them as sons."

* * *

 

On every fifth day of the month, John goes down the stairs, knocks on Mrs. Hudson's door, and gives her an envelope.

In the envelope is the rent.  
  
It’s routine for him. Familiar.  
  
But once, on a fifth of December, something is different.  
  
He goes downstairs and knocks on the door.  
  
Mrs. Hudson opens it. "John!" She smiles brightly. "It's nice to see you."  
  
"The pleasure is all mine," John replies kindly, waving the envelope. "As always …"  
  
But Mrs. Hudson shakes her head. "Oh John ... you and Sherlock, you're like the sons I never had. Keep the money. I will not take any more from you - No back talk!"  
She raises a warning hand as John opens his mouth. John closes it again.  
"I’m just glad to have you around, you know. Keep the money. And if you really can’t resist ... I could use a new iron.”  
She smiles. "How about a cup of tea now?"  
  
“I’d love one,” John replies, putting away the envelope.  
He follows her into her flat.  
  
_Like the sons I never had_ ...  
these words fill him with a special warmth and remain in his thoughts for a very long time.


	9. December 9: Blizzard (500 words)

Prompt: “Sherlock and John get stuck in the car due to snow on the way to the Holmes parent’s place. What do they do?”

* * *

“Great. Just great!”  
  
“Calm down John, it’s all right …”  
  
“No, it’s not! A blizzard is raging, we are in the middle of nowhere, it’s freezing cold and we have no signal. How can _that_ be all right?! ”  
  
John was breathing hard. He just could not believe it.  
  
They had been on their way to Sherlock’s parents to celebrate Christmas there. At first it had snowed only slightly, but at some point John had to pull over because he just could not see _anything_. The snow was so dense that the world around them seemed to be a shimmering, white mass. The wind howled and made the car wobble slightly.  
  
Next to him, Sherlock once more typed on his phone and finally let it sink in resignation. “Oh well. That means a few hours less of Mycroft,” he suddenly said soberly.  
  
John raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?!”  
  
Sherlock looked at him in astonishment. “Of course. You have to think positive, right? Isn’t that what _you_ are always saying?”  
  
John decided not to answer.  
He hunched his shoulders and tried to warm his face in the collar of his pullover.  
  
Time passed slowly. It seemed to get colder with every minute.  
  
“John,” Sherlock suddenly said. “John. I’m cold.”  
  
John snorted. “For real? Hard to believe.”  
  
“John. Do you know that people radiate body heat?”  
  
“Yes … what are you getting at?”  
  
“Well, we could warm each other.”  
  
“Uhm …”  
  
“Do you have a better idea?”  
  
No. He did not have one. But … did Sherlock really suggest that they cuddled together? At the thought of being so close to Sherlock, John’s heart began to beat very fast in his chest.  
  
_Oh God. If you knew how many times I imagined we were close … But_ this _scenario had never been in my imagination._  
  
“John?”  
  
“I … okay,” John brought out, hesitantly opening his arms. Sherlock looked at him. Then he moved closer and pressed against John. He put his arms around him.  
  
John swallowed. It already seemed … to get warmer.  
  
“Okay?” Sherlock asked.  
  
“Okay,” John replied hoarsely.  
  
A few minutes passed.  
  
At some point Sherlock looked up at him.  
  
_Oh God. He is so close …_  
  
“This is good. You feel … very good,” Sherlock mumbled.  
  
_Jesus._  
  
John swallowed.  
  
They locked eyes.  
  
_I wish I could …_  
  
Suddenly John’s body seemed to act on its own. He lowered his head and gave Sherlock a soft kiss on the forehead.  
  
Sherlock froze and his eyes widened.  
  
"Sorry …,” John said hastily. “I …”  
  
“No,” Sherlock said softly. “That was … do it again.”  
  
John blinked. He took a deep breath. Then he kissed Sherlock again.  
  
Sherlock sighed softly and closed his eyes.  
  
Now John was really warm. He put his chin on Sherlock’s head and closed his eyes as well.  
  
“John,” Sherlock muttered softly. “John, do you ever think about whether we could be …”  
  
“Yes,” John said immediately. “Yes.”  
  
Outside, the snow began to fall more gently. 


	10. December 10: Holding Hands (400 words)

Prompt: “Sherlock and John have been in a committed relationship for some time, and Sherlock’s worrying that John doesn’t want to be affectionate in public with him (and Sherlock’s thinking that John’s embarrassed of their relationship). Once they’re somewhere in public, and John sees that Sherlock’s staring on a couple holding hands/kissing, he understands that Sherlock needs it and he shows him how much he loves him.”

* * *

They came out of nowhere.  
A couple. A man and a woman.  
They walked close together. Their hands entwined.  
They looked at each other lovingly.  
  
Sherlock saw them and suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off them.  
He stopped and looked after them, lost in thought, while John unsuspectingly continued walking.  
  
John and he had been together for some time now.  
And Sherlock was unbelievable happy.  
But there was this one thought that had settled in his head …  
  
What if John was actually ashamed of their relationship?  
And what if that was the reason why John had never held his hand in public?  
  
He felt guilty for these thoughts.  
He should just be glad that John wanted to be near him at all.  
  
But … it would be nice to hold John’s hand. To be that close to him. Visible for everyone.  
  
“Sherlock?”  
  
Sherlock flinched.  
John was standing in front of him. He looked worried. “Is everything all right?”  
  
Sherlock swallowed and glanced at the couple, who was now kissing at a traffic light.  
  
John’s eyes followed his. He frowned.  
“Sherlock,” he said. “Did you stop because of those two?”  
  
Sherlock swallowed. "Yes.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Uhm … ,” Sherlock took a deep breath. "I sometimes wonder if you are ashamed of our relationship.”  
  
John blinked in surprise. “I … of course not. Oh Sherlock. What makes you think that?”  
  
Sherlock swallowed. “Well … you never take my hand or kiss me when we’re in public. And I wondered if you maybe don’t want to be seen with me like that …”  
  
"Oh Sherlock,” John said softly, “I thought you maybe don’t like that kind of things. I’m sorry … I should have asked you. Or … I’m an idiot.”

“You aren’t,” Sherlock said quickly. He hesitated. “So actually, you’d really like to hold hands?” He finally asked, frowning.  
  
“Of course.” John smiled. “And I’d like to kiss you while we wait for our taxi or while we stand in the line at the cash register in the supermarket. Because I love you. Please never think that I’d be ashamed of our relationship. I … I still can’t believe that I have the luck to be the man at your side. I want to show you my love. I want to show everyone that I love Sherlock Holmes.”  
  
“I love you too, John.” Sherlock said, almost overwhelmed by the affection and warmth, that overtook him at John’s words.  
  
They continued towards Baker Street.  
  
And John took Sherlock’s hand.

* * *


	11. December 11: Snowball Fight Part 1 (300 words)

Prompt: “Snowball fight-Sherlock/John vs Mycroft/Lestrade?”

* * *

   
“This is ridiculous,” Sherlock grumbled. “This is the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done, John.”  
  
John smiled grimly. “They challenged it, Sherlock. They only get what they obviously wanted.”  
  
“It was just _one_ stupid snowball, John! You know that Gavin is at the intellectual stage of a toddler most of the time … Not to mention my brother.”  
  
“It’s _Greg_. And yes, it was just one snowball. But he threw it when I turned my back on him. That’s unacceptable!”  
  
“John …”  
  
“Less talking. More snowballs.”  
  
Sherlock sighed. He took a handful of snow and formed it to a ball.  
  
John carefully looked over the edge of the narrow ditch they were kneeling in.  
"It’s really calm on the other side.”  
  
“Good. Maybe we can just go home?” Sherlock suggested hopefully.  
  
“No. This battle has to be fought.”  
  
Sherlock looked at John. What he saw surprised him.  
John was tense, his eyes sparkled. He looked like a predator just before the jump. He obviously enjoyed this game.  
Sherlock had to smile. A wave of affection overcame him.  
  
He remembered snowball fights … he and Mycroft had a lot of them in their childhood.  
  
He wanted to tell John about it, but when he opened his mouth, a snowball suddenly hit him on the shoulder. He gasped in surprise and John looked at him wide-eyed.  
  
“Ouch,” Sherlock said, wiping snow off his coat, frowning.  
  
John jumped up. “Cowards!” And the next moment he started to throw snowball after snowball at Greg and Mycroft. The fire was returned promptly.  
  
“Help me Sherlock!” He called over his shoulder. “Come on!”  
  
Sherlock shook his head, smiling. But he took snowballs and started throwing. At some point he scored a direct hit at Mycroft, which brightened his mood significantly.  
  
In the end it was more fun than he had expected … 


	12. December 12: Cuddly Sundays (100 words)

Prompt: "Cuddly Sunday afternoon."

* * *

Winter Sundays are Sherlock’s favourite Sundays.

They are filled with love and warmth, while the world outside is dark and cold. 

On some of those winter Sundays, he and John don’t even leave their bed.

They stay in there the whole day, cuddling and dozing. They only get up to make more tea.

Sherlock loves to lay his head on John’s chest then. The steady beating of John’s heart is incredibly soothing.

Sometimes, they read a book together. Or watch videos on youtube. 

But mostly, they just cuddle.

They cuddle. They tickle each other with their bare toes under the blanket, giggling. They kiss. And they whisper declarations of love.


	13. December 13: Snowball Fight Part 2 (400 words)

Greg and Mycroft's POV of the Snowball Fight in Chapter 11.

* * *

 

“Why have you done that, Gregory?” Mycroft asked, sighing. “We aren’t children anymore. We are grown men. Grown men shouldn’t kneel in a ditch, forming snowballs …”

“It’s for fun, Mycroft,” Greg said, smiling brightly, while he laid another snowball on his growing pile.  

“I can’t see the _fun_ ,” Mycroft stated, shooking his head.

“Mmh,” Greg formed another snowball calmly. “Did you never do snowball fights with Sherlock, when you were younger?”

“Of course we did …”

“Then you know that it’s fun, right?”

“I …”  
He swallowed.  
Snowball fights with Sherlock …  
Oh yes, he remembered the fun they had. He remembered it very well.  
He remembered Sherlock’s bright laughter and his sparkling eyes.  
_We’re Peter Pan and his friends, and we fight against the pirates_ , Mycroft had once said.  
But Sherlock had shook his curly head.  
_No. We’re_ the pirates _and we have to defend our ship_ , he had said seriously.  
Mycroft had smiled. _All right, Captain._

Something in his stomach clenched. Why was it so painful to think of that time?

Maybe because the world had been simple back then. So simple and … bright.

“Mycroft?” Greg asked next to him and interrupted his thoughts. “Are you all right? You seem so thoughtful suddenly.”

“I just remembered the snowball fights,” Mycroft said. “And yes. They _were_ fun.”

He hesitated. Then, he took some snow in his hands and started to form a ball.  
Greg looked at him surprised, and then smiled. 

„I’m glad you’re here with me. In our last hours,” he said playfully and laughed.

“Gregory,” Mycroft said and rolled his eyes. But he had a smile on his face. In this moment, he realised like many times before, why he loved this man so much.

“I hope you’re ready,” Greg suddenly said. “Because I’ll open the fire now.”

And he threw a snowball to the other side, were John and Sherlock were kneeling in a similar ditch.  
They heard a gasp and then John screaming, “Cowards!”  
And then all hell broke loose.

Suddenly they were showered by a hail of snowballs.  
They returned it with all force they had.  
And at some point, Mycroft realised, that it was fun indeed.  
He couldn’t even be mad, when one of Sherlock’s snowballs hit him on one cheek with full force.

Because in his imagination, he saw his laughing, little brother with a pirate hat on his head.    


	14. December 14: Flames (200 words)

Prompt: "Sherlock temporarily believes that John is dead. He isn’t and all’s well in the end; but how would Sherlock react in the meantime?”

* * *

 

“No,” Sherlock whispered breathlessly. “No, no, no.”  
He pulled at his hair firmly. Desperation filled every part of his mind. _  
No…_  
His horrified eyes reflected the flames shooting out from the windows.  
Inferno. Shattering glass. Black smoke.  
  
_John…_  
  
Sherlock stared into the flames,  
He remembered John’s panicked face,  
who had roughly shoved him out the door.  
before the bomb exploded.  
John, who hadn’t followed after him.  
  
_John …_  
  
And while sirens approached, he slowly sank to the ground.  
He felt as if he could hear Moriarty’s laugh in his head.  
_I burn it, Sherlock. Your heart. I fullfilled my promise._  
  
“John,” Sherlock whispered and a tear ran down his cheek. “John. I … you can not be dead. I can not continue without you. You are … it’s you who keeps me alive all the time. You showed me a side of life that I thought I had forgotten … and now it’s all going to burn to ashes? Please John, I … a miracle. I need a miracle. This time it must be you who hears me … ”  
  
And then the door was pushed open. A shadow staggered out. John, coughing and with ashes on his face. He staggered out and Sherlock sobbed with relief.  
“John!”


	15. December 15: Mulled Wine (200 words)

Prompt: “Going to a christmas market and having Glühwein (=mulled wine).”

* * *

 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough mulled wine already?” John asks amused.  
Sherlock shakes his head and takes another sip from his cup. “Don’t be silly, John. I can tolerate a lot of it,” he says confidently and licks his lips.  
John shakes his head and smiles.  
Sherlock often underestimates the effect of alcohol …  
He obviously enjoys the hot drink, although initially - as so often with new things - he has shook his head skeptically.  
John himself already feels a little tipsy. But in a pleasant way. He is warm and his soles are tingling.  
He looks at Sherlock while he’s drinking. Sherlock is beautiful. His cheeks are slightly red and his eyes are sparkling. The warm light of the stalls is reflected in them.  
Suddenly John can not hold back. He gives Sherlock a kiss on the cold tip of his nose and puts his arm around him. Sherlock giggles in surprise. “John!” But he leans against John with a happy sigh.  
They finish the mulled wine and slowly walk over the Christmas market hand in hand.  
It’s the first time they do this. John has thought about it many times, but in reality it is even more romantic than in any scenario he has imagined …


	16. December 16: Jealousy (500 words)

Prompt: “What about some jealous!john in an established relationship? And Sherlock is really pleased of course, and even jokes about it, and it ends with lot of kissing!”

* * *

 

John was close. So close.  
Everything in him was tense and ready.  
Ready to jump up and grab that stranger who was standing there by Sherlock - who was leaning into Sherlock’s personal space as if he had been _invited_ \- by the collar, dragging him out of the door …  
  
_It’s just a fan, Watson. You already know that they’re lurking everywhere. Even here at a closed Christmas party for the yard_. _Relax. You really need to get this groundless jealousy under control_ , an inner voice mumbled imploringly.  
  
But another voice encouraged him to give in to this jealousy.  
  
And that would be so much easier than sitting still and feeling this _pressure._  
  
Anyway, John could barely concentrate on the conversation that Greg had started and now led largely alone.  
He clenched his hand into a fist under the table as the strange man smiled at Sherlock, casually brushing a strand of his blond hair from his forehead and - _oh my God. Did he really just flutter his eyelashes?!_  
  
That was enough.  
  
John stood up abruptly and did not care about the surprised gaze Greg gave him from the side.  
  
He walked quickly to Sherlock and the other man.  
“Am I disturbing you?” He asked loudly and both turned to face him.  
  
“John,” Sherlock said, eyeing him. His eyes widened slightly as he no doubt read the thunderous jealousy out of John’s gaze, face, and tense body. “No … Gary here just had some questions about our last case.”  
  
“John Watson,” Gary said, offering his hand. “I’m a huge fan.”  
  
“Ah,” John said, squeezing Gary’s hand so hard that he could not suppress a gasp. “Very pleased,” he said, giving the other man a broad shark grin that did not reach his eyes, which glared with aggression. Gary swallowed and took a step back. “I … I will go to the buffet,” he said weakly and started the retreat, glancing back over his shoulder once - right into John’s grin - and swallowed hard again.  
  
John nodded in satisfaction and put an arm around Sherlock who had a slight red glow on his cheek.  
  
*  
Much later, when they were on their way home, Sherlock suddenly stopped John, hugged and kissed him enthusiastically.  
  
John looked at him joyfully but somewhat surprised. “Everything all right?”  
  
“Yeah … uhm, you know … I feel like I like it more than I want to admit, when you get jealous,” Sherlock said, looking sideways embarrassedly.  
  
John grinned. “I see … so are you telling me that you’re making me jealous deliberately?”  
  
Sherlock looked a bit shocked. “No, John! I would never … ”  
John interrupted him with another kiss, which became increasingly passionate and after which they both gasped for breath.

“You know,” Sherlock quietly said after a moment. “That you don’t need to be jealous, right? Not really. Because no one and nothing can come between us, John. Never.”

“I know,” John answered and stroked over Sherlock’s cheek. “I know.”

_There’s an invisible bond between us. One, that can’t be destroyed …_

They smiled at each other and made the rest of the way back hand in hand.


	17. December 17: Stray Cat (200 words)

Prompt: ”Stray cat starts showing up in the flat. How does it get in!? Who knows!? Which of the boys puts up with it and which doesn’t?”

* * *

“No,” John said immediately. “No.”

“But John …,” Sherlock said and carefully petted the black cat that sat on the couch. The black cat, that literally came out of nowhere. 

“How did it even get in here?” John asked, frowning. “I’m pretty sure I left no window open …”

Sherlock shrugged. He didn’t even look at John. He was completely focused on the cat, which started to purr and bump its head into Sherlock’s big hand. And - _Jesus …_ \- Sherlock’s eyes were sparkling and a bright smile was on his face. He was beautiful. 

“Please, John,” he suddenly said. “Can we keep it?”

He now looked at John with wide open, pleading eyes. 

And all the words about going to a pet shelter or searching for the potential owners remained unspoken. John sighed.   
“All right … ”

“Thank you, John!”

John smiled crookedly. “Well … it’s like an early Christmas present, isn’t it.“  
 _A present, which will require a lot of work_ , he thought. _And time_.   
He wasn’t sure if they would be able to …

Suddenly the cat jumped off the couch and walked to John.  
It looked up at him, meowing softly and rubbing his head against John’s leg.   
And John’s heart melted. 

_Oh screw the work. And the time …_

“Welcome to the family little one …” _  
_


	18. December 18: Fireworks (200 words)

Prompt: “New Years’s eve fireworks give John a war flashback.”

* * *

He’s on the battlefield again.

Explosions. Blinding lights. And …

“John?”

There’s someone, shaking his shoulders. Saying his name. Was he shot again? He can’t remember. Panic starts to fill every part of his mind and he can’t move -

“John!”

He opens his eyes and there’s Sherlock’s worried face in front of him.  
John frowns. Why is Sherlock here …

“John, I think you’re having a panic attack,” Sherlock says, wrapping a blanket around John.

John blinks. He looks around. Oh. _Oh._

He’s at Baker Street? He’s … not on a battlefield.

Something explodes outside and John flinches.

“It’s just fireworks, John,” Sherlock says softly, carefully drawing John in his arms. “Just fireworks. It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t you remember? We just wished each other a Happy New Year.”

_Oh. Oh God._

_Of course._

John closes his eyes. He feels so stupid. So … weak.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Sherlock shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I know panic attacks by now. They are … deceitful. Just know that I’m here. I can hold you the whole night. I won’t leave you alone with your fears, John.”

John feels deep gratefulness. “Thank you, Sherlock …”

They sit on the couch together and watch the fireworks, which wake up demons and hidden memories in both of them. But they can fight them together. They can.


	19. December 19: Cold (100 words)

Prompt: "John having caught a cold and Sherlock needs to take care of him.”

* * *

 On a Sunday in winter, Sherlock is woken up by a violent coughing.  
The coughing comes from John. John’s face is red and his nose is running.  
  
“You’re sick, John,” Sherlock says.  
  
“Obviously,” John answers with a wry smile and starts coughing again.  
  
Sherlock thinks for a moment. _What does John do when I’m sick? Oh. Of course._  
He gets up quickly and disappears from the room. John looks after him, still couging.  
  
A little later Sherlock comes back. Equipped with a hot water bottle, a cup of tea and several packs of tissues. “Here, John,” he says. “I’ll run you a bath. Drink the tea!”  
  
“Aye-aye sir,” John croaks and smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Sherlock … You’re the best husband a sick doctor can wish for.”

“Obviously, John.”


	20. December 20: A Special Gift (400 words)

Prompt: “John has got a gift for Sherlock, but won’t let him open it until Christmas morning.”

* * *

John was nervous.  
He looked at the little box in his hands.  
It was Sherlock’s Christmas present.  
  
They have been together for many years now.  
They have celebrated a lot of Christmases together.  
Have surprised each other with a lot of gifts.  
  
But this gift was special. This Christmas was special.  
And John was so incredibly nervous …  
  
*  
  
Sherlock looked at the parcel with a mixture of confusion and open curiosity.  
“What is this, John?”  
  
“Your Christmas present. I wanted to give it to you beforehand … But you aren’t allowed to open it yet, all right?”  
  
“Why?” Sherlock asked, frowning. “Oh, I see. I’m supposed to guess!” He said the next moment and his eyes lit up. “I’ll deduce it in a minute, John. Mmh … It’s something special. Otherwise your hands would not sweat like that. And it is …”  
  
“Stop it, Sherlock,” John said, laughing nervously. “You will have to wait until Christmas morning …”  
  
“What?” Sherlock asked horrified. “But John, two days from now … that’s an eternity!”  
  
“I want it to be special,” said John softly. “So please, wait for me, all right?”  
  
Sherlock looked at him in astonishment. But he nodded obediently.  
  
*  
  
“Is it a watch, John? You once said I needed one of those expensive watches for my suits … Or is it a perfume? You know that I’m very, very picky about my perfume, right? You know that I … ”  
  
“Sherlock!”  
  
“Sorry, John …”  
  
*  
  
Christmas morning could not come fast enough for both of them.  
The little parcel was standing on their nightstand all the time.  
And whenever John’s eyes fell on it, his heart beat faster.  
  
Oh God.  
I am so nervous …  
  
*  
  
And then it was time.  
  
“Now?” Sherlock asked.  
  
“Now,” John answered, nodding.  
  
He watched as Sherlock unwrapped the gift. Slowly, with clearly suppressed excitement. Finally he held a small box in his hands. Sherlock looked at it and tilted his head thoughtfully.  
  
John held his breath.  
  
Sherlock opened the box. Looked inside. And his eyes widened in silent astonishment.  
“John,” he breathed. “John.” He put a trembling hand over his mouth. Tears started to fill his eyes.  
  
John swallowed. His heart was pounding loud and fast in his chest. He took a deep breath.  
“So … do you want to?” He asked softly and dropped to his knees in front of Sherlock. “Do you want to marry me?”  
  
Sherlock finally managed to avert his eyes from the ring in the box.  
He looked at John. A tear ran slowly down his cheek to his chin.  
“Yes,” he breathed. “Oh God, yes.”


	21. December 21: Atrocious Christmas Sweaters (200 words)

Prompt: “John annoys Sherlock by wearing more atrocious Christmas sweaters each day until he snaps in whatever way you feel.”

* * *

Sherlock didn’t know how much longer he could stand this …

Day after day, John pulled out a new sweater with Christmas motifs from the wardrobe.

And every day they seemed to get more atrocious.

They were rough and scratchy. They hung on John’s body like shapeless sacks and made the well-defined muscles disappear behind tons of red, green or blue wool.

And then these motifs! Reindeers with red noses, smiling Christmas elves, snowmen.

Horrible. Unbearable.

With every sweater Sherlock’s mood got worse.

_Where does he get all of them from?! He can not have one for every day. That’s impossible!_

And finally, when John presented him a red sweater with three reindeers staring at Sherlock from disturbingly large black button eyes, he lost his temper. “For God’s sake, John, can not you just dump these awful things into the garbage, I’ll buy you as many sweaters as you want - just spare me those monsters!”

But John just grinned.

And the next day he was sitting at the table with a green Christmas sweater announcing in big black letters: _You are my Christmas miracle!_

Sherlock stared at it in silence and did not quite know what to think.


	22. December 22: Friends (500 words)

Prompt: “Kid!Lock: John and Sherlock find each other in the vacation spot where they’re at for Christmas. Both wanted some solitude/time away from family, and find a friend in each other.”

* * *

John walked through the snow and sighed. 

Christmas was so stressful sometimes … So much food. So much music. So many people. He hadn’t even known that he had that many relatives!

Now he was glad that he had gotten the permission to go to the playground near their house. 

But when he arrived there, he saw, that he wasn’t alone.

There was another boy. With a dog. A _big_ dog. John swallowed. Maybe he should go somewhere else?   
He had had a bad experience in the past. A huge dog had jumped at him and had thrown him to the ground. His mum had told him, that the careless owner was to blame for the incident, not the dog itself. But since then John always felt a bit anxious near big dogs. 

But before he could turn around, the dog saw him and barked loudly.   
The boy turned and looked at John curiously. “Who are you?” He asked. It sounded very demanding.

“John. John Watson,” John answered and swallowed nervously when the dog came closer. “That’s a really big dog …”

“He’s called Redbeard,” the boy explained. “And he’s not dangerous. You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of dogs,” John said quickly and tried to sound braver then he felt. Redbeard sniffed at his hands and licked them. 

“You can stroke his head,” the boy said. “He likes that.”

John took a deep breath and laid one hand on the warm, soft head of the dog. Redbeard stayed calm and wagged his tail. _Not bad after all_ , John thought and smiled. He was somehow proud of himself. 

Then he realized, that he still didn’t know the name of the other boy. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sherlock,” the boy answered.  
  
John raised his eyebrows. “ _Sherlock_? I never heard that name before.”

Sherlock nodded and sighed. “Do you want to make fun of it too?”

John immediately shook his head. “No! Of course not. Why should I make fun of your name?” 

“Well … a lot of other children like to mock me for it. And for other things,” Sherlock said and shrugged. 

“Oh.” John didn’t quite know what to say. He continued to stroke Redbeard’s head and the dog pressed against his legs, panting.

Suddenly Sherlock said, “Why are you here, John? Don’t you celebrate Christmas with your family?”

“Yeah, well, it was a bit too much … I wanted to be alone for a while,” John explained.

Sherlock grinned. “I’m here for the exact same reason!” He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “Do you like playing pirates, John?”

John smiled brightly. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Okay. Come on, we need to defend our ship against the royal marine!”

“All right.”

*  
Later, when they took a break, Sherlock carefully asked, “Are we friends now?”

“Sure. Why not,” John answered.

Sherlock was silent for a moment. Then he said softly, “I never had a friend before. Well, besides Redbeard.”

“Well, now you have Redbeard and me,” John said.

They smiled at each other.


	23. December 23: Disguise (500 words)

Prompt: Prompt by anon: “For some reason, Sherlock has to pretend to be in a relationship with somebody for a case, and John is super jealous! John can’t stand to see Sherlock with somebody else and finally admits to him (and himself) his feelings for him.” 

* * *

“Are you going out tonight?” John asked, frowning. Sherlock had been in the bathroom for an eternity, and he looked very attractive with his purple shirt and the tight - _why are they so tight? Jesus_ … dark jeans. 

Sherlock threw him an annoyed look. “John … I already told you! The case. The murder in the gay club. I’m going there tonight. With my date.”

John almost spit out his tea. “Date?!”, he coughed. 

Sherlock frowned. “Not a real date, John. Obviously. It’s for my disguise.”

“Your disguise, of course,” John stammered.

Suddenly the doorbell downstairs rang. 

“Ah. That must be Peter,” Sherlock said and put on his coat. “Don’t stay up for me, John.”

John was speechless. He stared after Sherlock and felt somehow lost. 

_A date. He pretends to have a date. With a man. Why didn’t he ask me? I’m a man_ , he thought. 

_But … why do I even care that much?_

You know the answer, a voice said somewhere in his head. You’re jealous. You have feelings for him since the day you met him! _  
_

 _Yes_ , John thought and closed his eyes. _Yes, I have feelings for him. Sometimes they are so strong that it fucking hurts …_

_Maybe it’s time to stop being such a coward and tell him …  
_

*

It really was late when Sherlock came back. 

John had waited on the couch. 

Sherlock seemed to be surprised to see him, but he immediately started to complain.   
“Nothing, John. Nothing! Not even a little hint at the murderer. And at some point, Peter seemed to have forgotten, that I’m paying him for the whole thing, because he started to move closer and closer to me, for God’s sake …”

“Sherlock …”, John said, and Sherlock stopped talking. “I have to tell you something.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Are you mad because I didn’t ask you to be my date? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You’re always so quick to tell everyone you’re not gay.”

“And I’m not,” John said, nodding. “Not gay.”

“Yes,” Sherlock said slowly, frowning. “I know that by now. Why …”

“I’m bisexual.”

There was a moment of complete silence.

Sherlock stared at him, his mouth slightly open.  
He blinked a few times. Then he said quietly, “There’s always something.”

John nodded and grinned. “Well … I should have told you. I’m … an utter idiot. And a coward.”

Sherlock raised a hand. “Wait … when we were at Angelo’s back then, you really were … uhm … _interested_?”

“Yes,” John said and sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry, Sherlock. I thought … you said you were married with your work …”

Sherlock shook his head. “I said a lot of things, John. I … Oh God. I have feelings for you too, you know? Since the day we met, I’m basically lost.” He swallowed. “But I always thought you’re not interested in men …”

They looked for each other for a moment, suddenly realising, what they could have been. 

Then Sherlock asked softly, “Do you want to repeat it? The dinner at Angelo’s?”

“Yes. Oh God yes. I’d love to.”


	24. December 24: John's Christmas Miracle (600 words)

Prompt: “John gets Sherlock a pupper from the shelter for Christmas.” 

* * *

_I need a miracle. A Christmas miracle._

John searched for this miracle at the local pet shelter.  
He searched for it in the eyes of countless dogs, who pressed their heads against the bars of their kennels and hopefully wagged their tails as he passed by.  
  
It was the first Christmas since Sherlock’s return.  
The first Christmas they could spend together on Baker Street.  
  
Two long years John had spent his Christmases lonely with alcohol and bitter tears.  
And he should be happy. He should be happy to have Sherlock back with him again.  
  
But something was wrong.  
Sherlock was not really there.  
Something had happened. Something of which the scars on Sherlock’s back could tell a lot. And his silence. His silence, which was so loud in the too quiet flat.  
  
John despaired at the sight of a Sherlock sitting upright in bed staring out the window. Day after day. His usual liveliness gone.  
  
John had tried everything. He knew about post-traumatic stress disorder. He had been there himself. But whatever he did, he did not get through to Sherlock …  
  
In a book he had read about the healing effects of animals.  
And he remembered how much Sherlock liked dogs.  
How many times he had stopped in the street when he had seen one.  
How his eyes had always filled with warm affection.  
  
A dog. Yes.  
And didn’t Sherlock have a dog when he was younger?  
It was worth a try, right?  
  
He stopped in front of a kennel in which a very young, black Retriever Mix was laying. His head on his paws, his eyes only tentatively raised. This dog did not wag his tail.  
  
“He didn’t have much luck in his short life,” the young employee next to him said sadly. “We found him at a bus stop. Injured and half starved. We assume that he was abused and eventually abandoned. He doesn’t really trust humans. But I’m sure … he could learn to do it again.”  
  
John looked into the eyes of the dog. He saw something lost in them. It reminded him of the expression in Sherlock’s eyes.  
  
"I take him.”

*

“You don’t need to be scared,” John told the dog in the cab again and again.  
  
The little guy looked at him attentively.  
  
“You know, I really hope you can help us … that you can help Sherlock,” John said, swallowing hard.  
  
_I really hope so …_  
  
*  
  
When they entered the flat, it was absolutely silent. Of course.  
  
John carefully took the leash from the puppy. “Come on, look around,” he said with a smile.  
  
The dog started sniffing on the ground and moving forward on clumsy paws. Then he raised his head and cocked his ears attentively.  
  
And under John’s astonished look, the dog headed straight for Sherlock’s room.  
He followed him slowly and what he saw filled him with warmth.  
  
The dog scratched Sherlock’s bed and tried to jump into it. And he … whined. It was a high, urgent noise.  
  
Sherlock, who was looking out of the window as usually, stirred. He turned his head into the direction of the whining and his expressionless gaze filled with surprise when he saw the puppy.  
  
And then John heard Sherlock’s voice for the first time in a long time.  
  
“Oh. Who … who are you? Come here.” Sherlock picked up the puppy cautiously and he immediately began to lick his face. Sherlock laughed softly and the sound made John gasp.  
  
Sherlock turned his head to him now. There was so much in his eyes … so much.  
  
"John?”  
  
“Merry Christmas, Sherlock,” John said with tears in his eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Say hello on [Tumblr](http://currently-in-my-mind-palace.tumblr.com/) :)  
> Beta: [bakerstreet-irregular](http://bakerstreet-irregular.tumblr.com/)


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